Winds of Justice in Anhui (6)
“What do you—!”
Thwack!
His words were cut short by a savage beating. The girl hadn’t taken a single step from her spot, but the two warriors ahead of her wordlessly seized Jeong Seop and pounded him like a dog on the hottest day of summer.
“Guhk!”
Thwack! Crack!
“Pl… please…!”
Crack-crack! Worried he might die, they held back their inner energy, relying solely on raw strength to batter his entire body—a pain so excruciating that death might have been a mercy. Namgung Mumu and Namgung Muyeong, both peak-level martial artists, knew exactly where to strike: spots that left the mind sharp while tormenting the nerves.
“Uh… uhh.”
The clan’s roughly ten warriors watched their branch leader suffer this one-sided assault, too cowardly to intervene. And in the meantime…
Thwack!Crash!
A single kick sent Jeong Seop tumbling across the floor. Forcing his unresponsive body upright, he barely managed to kneel, clasping his hands in desperate plea.
“Pl… please! Spare me, I beg you. I was wrong. I’ll do anything you say. Please.”
Yeon stared down at him impassively before spitting out her demand.
“Bring the usury contracts. All of them.”
“Y-yes… yes! G-go… get them. Hurry!”
One of his underlings dashed inside and returned with a bundle of papers, handing them to Yeon with trembling hands. She slowly scanned the documents, and what she found was outrageous.
“‘Interest accrues at ten percent per month, compounded.’”
Yeon read slowly, then paused.
“‘Ten percent a month means the interest exceeds the principal in a year. Compounded, by the second year it’s incalculable.’”
“……”
“‘If two months’ interest is missed, the family must compensate. Farmland seized as priority collateral.’”
Yeon set the papers down gently and fixed her gaze on Jeong Seop.
“These were people with nothing to eat during the famine, forced to borrow. To pay that interest, they sell their crops—but selling crops means starving again, so they borrow more. That family liability clause? It’s there to trap them.”
“Th-that’s…”
“This was never a contract meant to be repaid.”
Her voice was quiet, but at those words, every warrior in Jeong Clan lowered their heads. Yeon’s cool dissection laid bare their crimes more vividly than the documents themselves.
“Three took their own lives in despair.”
“……”
“Four more tried reporting to the authorities but were ambushed by your gang and beaten half to death.”
“…Pl… please.”
As Yeon’s voice grew icier—hard to believe from such a young girl—Jeong Seop crawled forward on his knees, sniveling at her feet.
She gazed down at him and murmured.
“The Namgung are stronger than your Jeong Clan, aren’t they?”
“Y-yes! Of course! How could I dare ignore the Namgung’s might?!”
“And we’re orthodox, yet we have cause to punish you for straying from the righteous path. Right?”
“Y-yes…? Y-yes…”
Jeong Seop stammered, confused by her intent. Yeon lifted her head and shouted to the Cheongan Twelve Sword Unit.
“Strip them clean.”
“Got it.”
“Uh… uhh. St… stop this.”
Thwack! Brushing aside the half-hearted attempts to block them with scabbard strikes, the warriors stormed the branch leader’s chambers, looting jewels, documents, gold—everything in sight.
Jeong Seop watched his possessions swept into sacks, one by one, and wailed in fury.
“Th-this! What kind of bandits are you?! Breaking into a manor in broad daylight to rob us? And you call yourselves orthodox?!”
Yeon’s simple reply cut through his rant.
“Yes.”
Blinded by rage, Jeong Seop bellowed.
“Who the hell are you?! How dare you! I’ll report this outrage to the authorities!”
“Go ahead. If you can.”
“You think I won’t?!”
“We’ll kill you the moment you do.”
The raw threat pierced him, leaving Jeong Seop dazed.
“…What?”
“Just like you beat those commoners half to death for reporting your crimes. We’ll beat you to death.”
“……”
Staring at the girl who uttered such chilling words without a flicker of expression, Jeong Seop fell silent.
Yeon added one more line.
“A thug with a blade should know he’ll meet one with a bigger blade.”
“Yeon, we’ve got it all.”
Namgung Mumu hefted a heavy sack. The branch leader’s room, once glittering with treasures, now stood barren. Disbelieving the sudden turn, Jeong Seop stared blankly at the emptiness.
“Even someone like you, who brings harm to the world, deserves one more chance.”
“……”
“Be grateful we only took your wealth. Reflect and live better. If I hear of this again, fists won’t be enough—swords will follow.”
“……”
Yeon eyed the speechless Jeong Seop a moment longer, then turned sharply.
“Shall we go?”
“Aye.”
Namgung Mumu and the Cheongan Twelve Sword Unit followed, each carrying a sack, as Yeon led the way. Namgung Muyeong whispered where she couldn’t hear.
“Man, I didn’t expect so many of these scum. Right, brothers?”
“……”
At the first hovel—a crumbling shack where a desperate couple had sobbed for help on the brink of ruin—they’d doubted. Hard to believe orthodox sects could be so vile. But by the second and third homes, their faces had hardened.
“This…”
“How are we any different from the unorthodox?”
Wondering how Yeon knew these commoners’ plights, Namgung Muyeong asked.
“Yeon, how did you learn of this?”
“There’s a new inn called Chunbong Inn. Hard-luck folks with grievances gather there. I heard it from them.”
“Chunbong Inn…? But why haven’t we known? Even our elders said nothing.”
“They’re orthodox too.”
“Huh?”
“They knew, but overlooked it because Jeong Clan is orthodox.”
Namgung Sinyeop and the others bristled.
“No way. Even so—”
“In Anhui, right under our noses—think the elders didn’t know?”
“……”
“They might even take a cut.”
“Hey now, Yeon! That’s too much.”
“Brother can check. Ask the family head. And one more thing.”
“……”
“I saw your chivalry today—your true hearts. Don’t change. Keep upholding justice.”
“Of course. We’ll never shame you.”
“Good! One more stop!”
Following Yeon again, they demolished the obscure Jangryu Sect, freeing dozens worked like slaves in human trafficking. The squad was speechless.
“How could…”
The county office was just an hour’s walk from Jangryu, Namgung even closer. Dividing loot among the swindled, burning slave contracts, and giving the freed enough to start anew, they reduced all to grateful tears on their knees.
“Th-thank you. True heroes.”
“… Thank her.”
“Miss. Thank you. Truly.”
In Anhui’s great city, under mighty Cheongan Namgung’s domain, such absurd evils had festered. The young Namgung scions were too shocked to speak.
What let orthodox clans strut with blades bared and heads high? Pride as chivalrous heroes. Their driving force. Yet failing their own backyard shamed them deeply.
“I’ll call on you more. Chunbong gets tons of tips; I’m grouping them up.”
“… Where’s this Chunbong Inn?”
Yeon just smiled at Namgung Mumu’s question.
The tale of Namgung’s girl sweeping Anhui spread like wildfire.
“Heard the news?”
“What now?”
“Radiant Sword Lord took a granddaughter.”
“Huh? A granddaughter out of nowhere?”
“They say she’s wise beyond her years, stunningly pretty. And her heart’s pure gold—out every day hearing us common folk’s woes.”
The man snorted.
“Hmph. ‘Girl’ means she’s a kid. What good’s a child listening to our troubles?”
Expected reaction. Girls of fourteen earned titles like “little miss” or “young lady.” “Girl” suggested ten or less. Laughable that a ten-year-old could help.
But the middle-aged storyteller shook his head.
“She took it straight to Namgung, got it fixed.”
“Huh?”
“Remember clothier Cheon? Botched a Baek Clan delivery, faced ruinous compensation.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeon girl heard, called Namgung experts. Got Baek to apologize and refund. Cheon wept on the spot—heartbroken till then.”
“Whoa…”
The listener’s eyes widened at the unbelievable tale. Baek and Namgung were both orthodox. Clans needed such “revenues” to thrive. Namgung’s vast inns, shops, and lands gave leeway, but meddling with Baek’s business using force? Unprecedented.
Sudden shift meant the girl at the center wielded real influence. A child?
“Her name’s Yeon?”
“Yup. Namgung Yeon. Smashed seven rotten sects already.”
Feeling his heart stir at this whirlwind brought by a girl, the man muttered.
“I’d like to see her.”
“Then go.”
“Huh? Can’t just waltz into Namgung.”
“Namgung? She plays Go in the market daily. Probably there now.”
“Go? A little girl?”
The man gaped; the storyteller grinned proudly, as if his own.
“Believe it. Undefeated. Completely.”